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He might be unusually stuck in his ways, but he still had a weakness forfairness, or, at least what he considered to be fair since everything he'd done from the beginning had been in the name of justice.
Maybe it was justice of a personal kind, but he was of the belief that it unfailingly overlapped withuniversaljustice.
And so if he had the smallest inclination to believe that something was wrong, he was going to pursue it until the very end.
That was perchance Michele's chief quality. His unwavering and unyielding determination to see things through. It was to the point that it didn't matter if he got hurt in the process.
Only the end result was important.
And though his main plan was still working as intended, and Michele continued to do his due diligence where that was concerned, there was one other thing that had taken over his mind—possessing him to such an extent he felt no longer in control of his own damn self.
But there was a chief difference between those two ruling—warring—goals. Deep down he realized that while going against McBride and his clique of corrupted politicians might end in his physical death, going after his other goal would result in his true end.
Watching Lucero remove her bags from the car, Michele leaned against the door, popping a cigarette in his mouth and studying her intently.
Andreas was by his side in a second, leaning in to ask a whispered question.
Michele nodded, giving him the green light to proceed as he saw fit.
"I'll see you soon, Andreas," Michele said as his friend led Lucero to the plane waiting for them.
Andreas would not only accompany Lucero back home, but he was to also spend some time there to make all the proper inquiries and put Michele's mind at ease.
Michele waited until the plane departed before getting back in the car and instructing the driver to take him back home.
As soon as he reached his house, Lovely's bark was the first thing to greet him.
A smile tugged at his lips just as somethingelsetugged at his chest.
Being greeted by someone as he arrived home was a foreign notion, and one that had died years ago with his son.
Yet looking into Lovely's eyes, he found a new optimism growing inside of him.
Swooping the dog in his arms, he brought his hand down his head, lightly petting him and scratching him behind his ears—all things Lovely loved.
Soon, there would be someone else waiting for him at home—greeting him with a sweet smile and even sweeter kisses.
That was the only thing that lightened his mood as he went to his newly renovated bedroom, taking a seat on the bed as he turned the monitors on.
And there she was, with her books in the kitchen.
Her pretty brows were knit together as she followed with her finger a line on the page, her lips working as she tried to read the words.
Now that Michele knew more about her disability and how much work she put in to overcome it, he couldn't help the pride that suffused his chest.
Of course his pet would be up to his standard. Otherwise he wouldn't be so fixated on her. She must have somethingworthyfor his attention to be so thoroughly claimed by her.
And though he'd thought her average at some point, now he couldn't even remember why.
He could only see her as she was—special.
Not just in her looks and the way they set his blood afire, but in her will, her determination and her quiet dignity.
He didn't think he'devermet someone more dignified than her.
And though that meant her continuous rebuttal of his attentions, he didn't think he would be in so deep if that weren't the case.
Besides, he was equally, if notmore,determined.
